


Infatuation

by intoapuddle



Category: Glee
Genre: Boypussy, M/M, Masturbation, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-18
Updated: 2013-11-18
Packaged: 2017-12-23 22:14:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/931666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intoapuddle/pseuds/intoapuddle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>BP!Blaine masturbates to thoughts of his crush, Kurt Hummel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Blaine’s legs spread desperately as he plunged his fingers in and out of his sopping pussy. He had never gotten this wet without coming before, but his pussy had been aching for it all day. From the first glance Kurt Hummel had shot him across the choir room when they were assigned dance partners to when his strong hands gently held Blaine by the waist and those assured eyes looked into his without a hint of hesitation, he’d been working himself up to an uncomfortably intense state of arousal.

It was just  _dancing_ , Blaine had unsuccessfully tried to remind himself. Kurt and him rarely talked, which Blaine suspected was a conscious decision to not become more of a target than both of them already were. Openly gay theatre kids who both had mostly female friends.

Blaine, personally, wanted nothing more than to get closer to Kurt, but he figured Kurt was too concerned with actively putting himself to as little risk of getting slushied as possible to consider befriending another bottom-of-the-food-chain kind of boy.

Besides, Kurt was… Fuck. People around really didn’t appreciate just how  _amazing_ Kurt was. Most of the time Blaine felt blessed at being in the very presence of him, all the while other people had the stomach to try and put him down as if he deserved it.

And then Kurt had acknowledged Blaine, granted because he had to, but still. They had never looked at each other at the same time for that much amount of time before as when they danced together in the choir room that day. Blaine was a year younger, a nobody, and insufferably insecure. Just standing in front of Kurt who looked at him with what had felt like acceptance had made Blaine have to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from trembling visibly.

Eventually, after Blaine stepped over his own feet and stumbled enough times, Kurt leaned in to his ear and spoke for nobody else to hear.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, his voice high and airy as always, but concerned.

Blaine had to swallow several times before he managed a response. God, he had it bad. It was pathetic.

“I’m a little nervous,” Blaine confessed, proud of himself for managing to speak without a stutter.

Kurt pulled back at that, looking at Blaine with quizzical eyes, and then settled into the same assurance as they’d held before.

“Calm down,” he said simply, but his voice lowered in a way that Blaine hadn’t heard it lower before.

The sound had gone straight to Blaine’s pussy. After class he had had to go the bathroom to wipe some of the juices off, because he was  _so_ wet. He felt a little gross at having to pull his soaked-through panties back up and walk around in them for the rest of the day, but he was just so  _horny._ He shook with it. He felt like he was on fire, remembering the scene over and over again.

_Calm down._

Paired with those eyes that spoke volumes, expression filled with just the right amount of condescend for Blaine to get turned on by it.

Blaine’s fantasy was interrupted by the loud, rough squelching sounds of the plunging fingers in his drooling cunt. The sound only drove Blaine closer to the edge, and he could just imagine Kurt hovering over him like that, with his pink, hard dick out, teasing the fat head across Blaine’s entrance before he pushed inside to give, just give.

He’d been close enough to Kurt to smell him. Fresh waves of hair product mixed with lavender conditioner had hit Blaine for every turn they made as they danced. Some moments it had gone smoothly. Just right. Kurt was amazing at leading. Blaine could just go with him and know he was okay as long as he didn’t let himself get overwhelmed by the moment, so distracted by how Kurt looked at him, how his needy pussy burned between his stocky thighs.

Blaine pulled his fingers out of himself and gently caressed his folds. He was so sensitive. His pussy felt puffy and  _big_ from how horny he was. If he put pressure to his clit now he’d come within seconds and he knew it. He slipped a single finger inside of himself and wiggled it a little when he got deep enough. He couldn’t help but release a small moan. Blaine was a little ashamed for it, but the truth was that the sound of his own voice always got him that much closer to climaxing.

He imagined Kurt there, above him, coaxing all those sound out of him and grunting into his ear. He shuddered beneath his hand and put his fingers to his clit, circling the hard nub slowly. It was almost painful to go slow, so he increased the pace and rubbed himself hard, feeling his muscles tighten and his breath catch in his throat. He whined with need.

_Calm down._

The ghost of that low, private voice in his ear again. Blaine’s face scrunched up and his back arched off the bed as he climaxed, sweat prickling his neck and forehead. He released a big, loud breath mixed with a satisfied moan once he came down and his hand slowed to a stop on his oversensitive clitoris.

Blaine pushed a couple of fingers inside his pussy again, excessive juices squelching out around them as a result, and he let the fingers slide out and up his folds again as he regained his senses.

He felt absolutely too hot, and used his other hand to undo his shirt. It fell open and a welcome breeze hit his chest.

He felt off, though. He wasn’t sure whether it was due to the extreme force of the orgasm or the fact that Kurt had no idea he had this effect on him, but tears gathered in the corners of Blaine’s eyes as he pulled his panties and jeans up his hips again and turned to lie on his side.

Blaine felt stupid for crying, but the tears wouldn’t stop once they’d started. He was achingly in love and ridiculously pining over a boy that wouldn’t even have known he existed unless they were both in Glee club. Blaine took a steadying breath. Kurt was out of his league. He truly was.

Blaine’s phone buzzed on the night stand beside his bed.

Blaine reached for it with his clean hand and slid it open. It was a Facebook notification.

_Kurt Hummel has sent you a friend request._

After the initial reaction; shock, an uninhibited smile stretched across Blaine’s face and he couldn’t keep the squeal of joy inside as he accepted the request. His heart was hammering inside his chest, pounding with possibilities, mind already frazzling with fresh load of new dirty fantasies involving the boy who’d just sent him an innocent friend request.

Blaine slid, not quite as guiltily as before, his hand beneath the fabric of his underwear and fucked his wet cunt again, and again, and again.


	2. Chapter 2

“What’s that smell?”

Puck is the one who poses the question, but it drowns in the noisy choir room. Blaine trembles with shame. Puck had walked past Blaine’s seat, caught a whiff of him, and immediately barked a comment. It confirms Blaine’s fear that it’s obvious; one can  _smell_  how embarrassingly turned on he is.

Or at least turned on enough to become paranoid about it.

The grown up, masculine poise of Kurt Hummel as he entered the choir room, Mercedes on his arm, sufficed to make Blaine’s pussy clench with want. But today it’s even worse. Kurt didn’t stop to chat with Rachel or to bicker with Finn. He walked straight to the empty seat next to Blaine, their shoulders brushing as he sat down. One kind smile and a half-whispered, “ _hi_ ”, and Blaine pretty much soaked his panties.

Since they’d started practicing dance routines together and Blaine confirmed Kurt’s friend request on Facebook, they’ve been playing off a sort of pseudo-friendship that vibrates with sexual tension. There’s not much between them as far as conversation goes. Partly because Blaine ends up a stuttering, flustered mess and partly because the tension, as far as Blaine’s concerned, is completely one sided. They’ve had a Facebook conversation once which consisted of Kurt asking what he’d missed in Glee Club when he’d been absent. Blaine reveled in that for longer than he wants to admit, but Kurt came to  _Blaine_ of all Glee kids.

The conversation had been brief and a little stilted, but Kurt had signed off with a “ _see you tomorrow :*_ ” that Blaine had stared at as he rubbed his clit to orgasm that afternoon.

Blaine isn’t a lonely kid. He has Trent, Nick and Jeff from his old school, Maria from piano lessons, Patrice and Jessica from Spanish. His brother keeps in touch every day in spite of moving across the country for his job every other week. Blaine just hasn’t found his place in Glee Club and he hasn’t claimed another role than what Mercedes heatedly refers to as “swaying background props” when she and Rachel fight over the solo spot for their competitions.

Blaine loves musical theatre, but he’s shy. He rarely sings outside of his house and piano lessons with Maria. Glee Club has very much improved his dancing and his ability to sing and move at the same time, though. Dancing, singing an assigned harmony, and smiling brightly at the same time is more of a task than many give the “background props” credit for. Especially with the soloist belting a deafening note that makes it hard to hear yourself.

Finn, Sam, Puck and Ryder may act indifferent to the amount of work it takes to perfect a number, but they don’t have the Glee Club fooled. They practice just as much as everyone else, and that’s a big part of the reason that Blaine doesn’t find them very intimidating.

That, and the way Kurt manages to slay them with a single dominating glance and a snarky comment when they try to prove their masculinity. Blaine ends up just as wordless as the other guys when that happens, but for a completely different reason.

Blaine focuses on the innocent reasons to why he keeps going to Glee Club in spite of his stomach turning every time Mr Schuester uses the phrase “sing about your feelings” or Rachel stands up in the middle of a lesson to announce the next Broadway number they’re doing, and acting as if it’s personally offensive if someone disagrees. If she didn’t nail every song she sings Blaine would probably speak up as well.

Improving his skills matters to Blaine, but he’s not sure he’d be able to stand it as long as he has unless it was for Kurt. Kurt, who used to be this far-away, perfect boyfriend ideal that Blaine ogled during lunch. Now he sits down next to Blaine, and throws him an amused glance when Mr. Schue has an uncalled for emotional moment, and hits him up on Facebook when he’s missed out on class. Blaine keeps that reason locked away inside, though, because with it comes the fact that Kurt makes him so wet he has to bring an extra pair of panties to school and the fact that he’s made an iTunes playlist with all the shot-down songs Kurt’s suggested in Glee Club. Blaine ends up loving every last one, and he’s titled the playlist with a simple “ _♥_ ”. If he closes his eyes and listens hard enough it almost feels like Kurt’s there with him as it plays in his headphones.

The extra panties will come to good use today. Kurt is wearing a black, tightly fitted T-shirt, loose jeans that fit perfectly around his ass and a simple green scarf that compliment his eyes. It’s a big change from his usually head-turning outfits and Blaine overheard Kurt explain that the washer machine at his place is broken. Blaine is as thankful as he is uncomfortable when he squirms next to his object of affection, Puck’s comment still burned shamefully inside of him. His pussy is throbbing between his legs, aching for touch, and images of Kurt on his knees between his thighs teasing the tip of his tongue between his dripping pussy lips has him crossing his legs tightly and biting the inside of his cheek.

He can’t stop thinking about it. His face is flushed red, he’s sure, as Marley and Jake perform an obnoxiously good folk version of the latest top forty hit and he can see Kurt bob his head along with the rhythm from his peripheral vision. God, Blaine can’t stand this. He needs to come. He almost whines, the wanting to put himself in Kurt’s lap and rub himself on him _hurts_ from how hard it makes his pussy pulse.

Blaine gulps and sweats in his seat. He wishes he could just shove his hand down his pants and rub one out right here. He cannot  _function_ when he’s on edge like this.

The meeting turns into the altos and tenors practicing harmonies in different ends of the classroom while the rest of the club looks over the choreography (but mostly end up gossiping now that Brad and Mr. Schue both are busy). Blaine sits, arms wrapped around himself loosely in a manner that shows he doesn’t want to engage in conversation but doesn’t feel threatened by the other dancers. He doesn’t really care about Tina’s part in a community theatre production of  _Spring Awakening_ anyway, not when Kurt’s standing among the tenors looking focused as he sings. His eyes wander the room at times, sometimes catching Blaine’s eyes, and Blaine looks down with burning cheeks. Fuck, the way Kurt’s throat moves as he sings. His jaw is so  _defined_. His lips so innocently pink, opening and closing around notes.

When the meeting is over Blaine has no time for a polite nod to his fellow Glee Club members.

_He needs to come._

Once Blaine’s inside a stall of the empty boy’s bathroom he immediately shoves his pants and underwear down. The breeze that hits his pussy is a true blessing from the horny  _burn_ between his now slick thighs, and as he reaches down to cup himself tenderly he winces from the sensitivity. His clit is large now, swelled big and prominent between the puffy lips of his cunt. His pussy is like a completely different entity when he’s in this state. He’s run by it. He  _has_ to touch himself.

When the initial sensitivity has died down and his dry fingers lube up with his own juices, Blaine begins circling his clit softly, a soothing counterpoint to how it stands out aggressively. He usually calms down once he gets some friction, but not today. He’s rubbed himself against the inside of his skinny jeans enough today to be over that. Blaine’s hand goes faster and presses down harder in tight circles. The backs of his thighs tremble and he uses his other arm to steady himself against the wall, exhales wetly as the approaching climax starts in his muscles and makes his pussy clench.

Blaine is so  _frustrated_. He wants to fuck. He wants to lick, bite and suck Kurt. He wants to be filled, he wants Kurt’s cock to pump in and out of him with a playful thumbing to his clit. Wants that breathy voice in his ear, those lips to close around his earlobe. He wants to feel Kurt’s shudder as he comes inside of him, wants to urge him on with noises and filthy words.

Blaine fills himself with two fingers, fucks himself on them, and a loud exhale escapes him. He has to be quiet. He only goes to the bathroom when he’s sure no one else will be there – either during lunch, when classes start (if he feels like he can be fast enough to not be late to his own), or at the end of the day when most people have gone home – but he still makes sure to keep the noise down. There’s always the risk of a janitor coming in to clean or someone needing to do their business at an odd hour. The thought of getting caught makes Blaine’s blood run cold enough to be disgusted by the very idea that he actually  _does_ this, multiple times a week. But when he is in school and Kurt catches his arm in the hallway to tell him something, or sits down beside him in Glee Club like today, the idea of getting off behind a locked door is a relief and a blessing. It doesn’t matter that it’s in a place where people go to do their number ones and number twos. He just  _has_ to come.

And oh, it’s difficult not to moan as his body seizes around his fingers. It’s good, fuck, it’s good and powerful. It’s like his body holds off coming, daring him to press a little harder and think even filthier thoughts, because the orgasm approaching is going to be so big.

Blaine breathes heavily, his pulse picks up. He pulls his fingers out and circles his clit,  _hard_ _fast_   _tight_ , and then it goes slow. He can feel the muscles on his inner thighs clench as the sensation of his fingers working so well where he’s hot and hard makes his heart flutter and his breathing turns into coughs. Blaine’s eyes squeeze shut. Kurt’s there. Kurt’s kneeling in the bathroom stall in his designer jeans because he doesn’t  _care_  he wants to taste Blaine so bad. Those lips. Fuck. They were made to settle around a hard, drooling pussy. All teasing kisses and hard flicks of tongue.

Blaine feels his entire body convulse where he’s standing and the orgasm crashes upon him. His feet feel hot in his shoes, his clothes are warm and slick against his sweaty back, and he comes but his pussy begs him to keep going; he’s not done. He obeys and comes again, again,  _again,_ and he cries out at every single climax. He’s not in school right now, he’s not anywhere, he is just a body and he’s coming so hard he doesn’t remember to keep his voice down.

A big exhale and his body calms. His legs feel like jelly. His pussy is numb, slick beneath his fingers. Blaine’s cheeks are streaked with tears that he doesn’t remember crying.

He just feels empty now. Done. He sits down on the toilet seat and takes off his shoes, pants and underwear. He puts the dirty underwear in a plastic bag he brought and pulls a clean pair up his thighs. Blaine takes a moment to make the buzzing in his head stop. He blinks a few times. His vision is still kind of blurry. He, thank God, can’t hear anyone else in the bathroom. He doesn’t know just how loud he got, but he was louder than he allows himself to get even when he’s home alone. Hell, he’s never felt the  _need_ to be this loud before even if sex noises makes him all worked up despite of coming from himself.

Blaine wipes his pussy with toilet paper and pulls on the underwear and pants over his ass. He flushes the toilet and puts the plastic bag in his school bag, uses his clean hand to put the strap over his shoulder and open the stall door.

As he’s washing his hands he exhales. His body doesn’t feel as hot anymore, but he’s sweaty and gross in his black and white striped shirt. He’s never thought to bring an extra _shirt_  to school.

When he leaves the bathroom the hallway is empty, so he stretches his arms above his head and cracks his back. He yawns. That orgasm ( _those orgasms_ ) really took it out of him. He’s never experienced anything quite like it before. His body usually needs a minute or two before he can come again, but this was just like an extended orgasm with intervals of _whitehotohmygodfuck._ He feels good and loose, and on top of it all his next class is Spanish. Patrice and Jessica always make him laugh. He can’t wait to see them.

“Blaine?”

He turns around, stiffening a little bit but not as much as he would had he not just come. He could recognize that voice anywhere.

Kurt half-skips to catch up with a feminine sway to his hips and smiles a friendly smile that Blaine  _revels_ in.

“What are  _you_  doing out in the hallway?” Kurt asks with a tilt to his head.

“Um. I, um. Had to go get something in my locker. Um.”

Kurt inspects his face with such intensity that Blaine doesn’t notice they’ve come to a full stop in the middle of the hallway.

“Are you feeling alright?” Kurt asks. “You look kind of flushed.”

Before Blaine has time to stutter a response Kurt puts the back of his knuckles against his sweaty forehead. He exhales. Stares up at Kurt with hope and promise and practically melts to the cool touch. His pussy is still kind of numb so he just sweats harder, breathes tighter.

“You’re burning up,” Kurt murmurs.

He sounds so different when he talks to Blaine. His voice is pitched lower, laced with genuine concern.

“I’m fine,” Blaine says, voice more serious than he intended. He can’t even try for a smile.

Their eyes meet fully for the first time since Kurt stopped him, and Blaine makes out the moment Kurt understands not to push the question further. He pulls his hand back (reluctantly, Blaine wants to think), and gives a half-smile.

“One period left,” Blaine says and his lungs open up a little bit. This time he smiles. “I think I’ll manage. Um. Th-thanks, though.”

Kurt takes another moment to look into Blaine’s eyes, as if making time for it, before he responds.

“No problem,” he says, but he doesn’t sound all there. “See you tomorrow in Glee Club.”

Kurt leaves for the bathroom that Blaine had just masturbated in. Blaine goes cold, but remembers to wave dumbly.

Fuck.


	3. Chapter 3

Kurt throws Blaine glances in the hallways as though he knows. Blaine spent the previous night with two fingers buried inside his cunt and another two circling his clitoris. His body went rigid as he climaxed with only one thought on his mind: Kurt.

Kurt, Kurt,  _Kurt_.

Wanna fuck him so bad. Wanna push him down onto a bed, pull his pants down, wrap a hand around his cock. Wanna straddle him and sink onto his dick, all rolling hips up and down and up and down until there's filthy, squelching noise of Blaine's wet hot pussy sliding easily around Kurt's rock hard cock. The thoughts verge on compulsive now. Whenever Blaine turns a corner and finds Kurt with one of the Glee girls on his arm, his eyes automatically takes in Kurt's broad chest and tight hips, his defined jaw, the darkness of his lips contrasting the pale skin. His mind just  _goes there_  instantly.

Kurt smiles and nods, glances at Blaine fast enough to seem indifferent, but lingers a second that makes Blaine's heart to stop. Maybe today he'll stop to talk, maybe today he'll ask about something, maybe today he'll really pay attention.

Blaine jumps back and forth between being optimistic and feeling  _lucky_ to be in the same school as the object of his affection. He's so beautiful. They've even talked a few times, despite Blaine's words getting all jumbled in result of his clenching, needing cunt unnecessarily reminding him of how attracted he is to Kurt. Then there's the other side of having a crush on somebody that seems absolutely uninterested: The pathetic, heart wrenching gut feeling that makes Blaine cry into his pillow listening to the Kurt playlist.

This is the feeling that Blaine gets the moment Kurt stands up during Glee practice that day to sing a song by himself. It's the first time he's done it in a long, long while and Blaine's heart catches in his throat. His eyes are as glued to Kurt's form as they ever were, and he completely tunes out the on-goings of the rest of their classmates. He doesn't hear Puck's groan, doesn't register Rachel's excited squeal. None of it is there except for the look on Kurt's face as his posture straightens and the first few chords of  _Don't Cry For Me Argentina_ cling from the piano.

As soon as Kurt opens his mouth everything inside of Blaine wrenches and hurts. His heart speeds up. The hair on the back of his neck stands up. He is absolutely  _distressed_ over this boy. He's so close, so far away. He's  _there_. If Blaine was brave enough he could've found out some suave way of acting on his emotions instead of clamming up and being awkward.

Kurt's voice captures the entire classroom. His face is calm and the words and phrases sings out of his mouth effortlessly. One hand is on his stomach, the other left hanging in the air. Both of them flexing and calming as though working the notes out of Kurt's body. His stomach hardens and softens against his hand. His hands turns to fists at certain, more difficult notes. Kurt's eyes close and open, close and open, and unmistakably ignore Blaine during the entire performance.

He's breathtaking. Blaine hears the groans from certain people, because they have some messed up idea of what is good music and what is an appropriate voice for a specific gender. It makes the blood boil beneath his skin. How come these people don't recognize a true talent as he performs his art right in front of their eyes, on several occasions? Kurt gets so much crap from uneducated teenagers that casting directors would positively  _applaud_. That a large audience would pay money to see.

As the song ends, Kurt's eyes open and he looks like he comes back from the mind set he enters when he performs. Blaine and the girls clap their hands, but Blaine can tell the male audience isn't as fond of the performance of the rest of the club. Mr. Schuester stands up awkwardly.

“Thanks for that, Kurt,” he says in a stilted voice.

Kurt's head tilts. He's all too used to that reaction.

“So?” he asks impatiently. “Regionals material?”

Rachel tenses where she's sitting front and center. Blaine can feel it all the way to the back row. Mr. Schuester doesn't have time to draw an exasperated sigh before Puck barks:

“Dude, we've told you a hundred times. If anyone does girly show tunes in this club it's Rachel. Just deal.”

Blaine digs his thumbnails into the palms of his hands to keep from growling. Kurt raises an eyebrow, and Blaine waits for the snarky reply that always makes him feel better. Kurt may not get his way, but he can make everyone shut up with just a couple words.

Kurt doesn't say anything, though. His raised eyebrow settles on his forehead, and his face turns... so entirely  _hopeless._ But it isn't desperate, or sad, or even angry. He just accepts what's thrown at him, and without a word he sits down beside Rachel who seems so relieved that Blaine wants to kick something.

Mr. Schuester doesn't even notice that Kurt is acting out of character. He simply smiles a wide douchebag smile and puts his hands on his hips. Blaine could vomit.

“Very good performance, though,” he says. “Now, this week we're going to focus on the subject of-”

“Wait, what?”

Each and every face in the Glee club turns to Blaine, whose uttered words are hanging in the air like time bombs waiting to go off. Blaine has never spoke up. He barely sings. He's background material, furniture. He fills a forgettable purpose.

This time he can't shut up.

“Excuse me,” Blaine continues. “But I thought that the requirement for auditioning for a competition solo had to do with  _talent,_ not gender.”

“Somebody has a crush on Hummel,” Santana immediately cuts in under her breath.

Blaine blinks. Mr Schuester looks like he doesn't know how to react. Blaine does not meet Kurt's eyes, even though he feels them on him.

He's seriously about to throw up now. Nobody is saying  _anything._  They're staring at him as though he isn't even a part of the club. Like he just turned up out of thin air. Like his mere presence is so  _unexpected._ It only makes Blaine angrier.

“We all heard the way Kurt sang this song,” Blaine says, and he pushes through the way his voice gets caught in his throat. “And you're all ignoring... I can't believe--”

“It's fine, Blaine,” Kurt says suddenly.

Blaine stares at him. Kurt's face is flushed entirely red. He's that uncomfortable and unadjusted to somebody jumping to protect him.

“It's not fair, though,” Blaine says.

His voice softens noticeably. It's like him and Kurt are the only people in the room. Kurt doesn't say it but Blaine can hear it,  _please, don't, it's not worth it._ And something about Blaine seeing that in Kurt's expression makes him calm down. It doesn't even feel strange – the two of them have never been close. And still, they're connecting and speaking without words as if it's second nature.

The rest of the club gets into another fit of arguments about wanting their own solos like they have so many times before, but Blaine doesn't pay attention. Kurt says something every now and again and follows the discussion, but his eyes flit to Blaine at times and... The connection is still there.

After class, Kurt takes Blaine aside by the arm as the rest of the group leaves the classroom. Blaine's heart beats hard at the touch. He swallows thickly and looks at Kurt with the same feeling of awe and wonder he always does. It is easier, though. He doesn't feel quite as incapable of human interaction as he usually does whenever Kurt is close by.

Kurt takes a preparatory breath and slides the hand down and off Blaine's arm. The soft brush of his palm against Blaine's bicep breathes intimacy. Kurt's eyes never quite meet Blaine's.

“I just wanted, um,” Kurt stutters. “To say thanks. For earlier.”

Kurt looks up and his cheeks are red. The blush looks beautiful on his cheeks. Blaine loves being the cause of it, except he'd rather want to make him blush for an entirely different reason than shyness.

“No sweat,” Blaine smiles. “I kind of... Couldn't not say anything this time.”

“This time?” Kurt asks curiously.

Shit. Blaine's enjoyed every one of Kurt's solos and gotten pissed off at the off-handed compliments he received to be forgotten. Blaine smiles shyly, and it's his turn to blush. He looks down, and his eyes catch on the way Kurt's collarbone pokes against his shirt.

When Kurt grins, Blaine dares look back up. They share a smile-and-look away moment, as if the electricity between them might cause a fire unless they only look at each other for half a second at a time.

“I have to go meet up with Mercedes, but um,” Kurt says, and he brushes a hand over Blaine's arm again. “Thank you. Again.”

Blaine blinks. He stares into the depth of Kurt's blue eyes. The soft touch of Kurt's hand burns into his skin. His fingerprints become permanent marks on his skin. Kurt's mouth open and close around a word that Blaine doesn't make out. He just nods, not trusting himself to speak at the moment, and then Kurt's off to attend his plans.

Blaine closes his eyes when Kurt is out of sight and heaves a sigh. One of his hands brush up the arm that Kurt touched, and he imagines that his hand it's still there. Imagines that his fingers brush over Kurt's knuckles. Imagines that Kurt's breath catches, to slide his other hand down Blaine's stomach, further down to cup his pussy through his clothes.

“ _Can feel the heat coming off you,”_  he imagines Kurt growling.  _“So turned on by me.”_

And Blaine would just nod in affirmation, would step in closer, would bite his lip not to beg Kurt to unclothe him and have his way with him. Oh.  _Oh._

Something about fantasizing on his way to his piano lesson makes him feel better than it usually does. Now he dares believe it could be a possibility. That it could happen. Kurt hasn't stuttered and caused such an intimate moment between them before, never. There hasn't been enough reciprocating emotions on Kurt's part for there to create that kind of spark. It's just been Blaine practically drooling at Kurt's feet and squirming uncomfortably because he's so turned on and aching. But  _now..._

His phone vibrates, and as Blaine sits down outside Maria's room to wait for her other lesson to be over, he fishes it out of his pocket to see what's up. It's a Facebook notification.

 

> _Message from Kurt Hummel:_
> 
> Hi, just wanted to say thanks again. I'm not exactly used to people standing up for me in the choir room, so.. It felt good.
> 
> By the way, I like your voice, too. I haven't heard it on its own, but from what I can make out in the harmonies it's nice.
> 
> Do you ever want to hang out? I think we have some similar interests?
> 
> See you around, xo -Kurt.

_Xo Kurt._ Blaine can barely type out a response, he's shaking so bad, smiling so hard. He can't believe this is happening. Kurt, Kurt,  _Kurt._

He spends the rest of the day on a high. He can't really concentrate during his piano lesson, but Maria is delighted by his good mood and the way he sings with unusual confidence as they play a four hands piano piece together.

When he's finished his homework and filled his parents in on what his day was like during dinner, he goes to his room and opens his laptop. He sits cross-legged in the middle of his queen sized bed and opens Facebook after reblogging a few Tom Hardy pictures on Tumblr. There's a new message from Kurt.

> Tomorrow works for me! I just have to tell my dad in case we go to my place after the Lima Bean. If you feel up to it.

Blaine's heart pounds hard, and he replies with an OK with fidgety hands.

He's going to see the insides of Kurt's house. Maybe. If they feel up to it. They'll have coffee. They'll--

Just the thought of it makes Blaine's pussy throb. How is he going to be able to be in Kurt's presence for that long without the need to be touched taking over his senses? He shoves a hand down his underwear and rubs himself slowly. He's wet, hot, and the slide of his fingers feels good as he presses a couple inside of himself. He clenches around them, hard, and he puts a steadying hand next to himself as he practically rides his own hand, faster, faster, faster, his hips roll with it and his head tips back. He thumbs at his clit slowly, feels Kurt's handprint that's burned into his left bicep, and that's what does it. He comes with a small yelp and exhales hard. Feels as though everything crashes around him and gets put into place, a lot more solid than before.

He uses his clean, dry hand to type another message to Kurt. The orgasm loosened him up. Made him less nervous.

> Can't wait. <3

Kurt's reply comes immediately.

> Me neither :) <3


	4. Chapter 4

When Blaine wakes up on the day of, he isn't nervous. He stares up at the ceiling, alert in spite of waking five minutes before his alarm is due to go off. His pulse speeds up. It feels like he hasn't slept at all. The short amount of time between his restless attempts at falling asleep and now feels like a black void, a mere blink of his eyes.

He doesn't feel nervous. He feels  _sick._

The sensation catches him off guard. He'd been excited up until now. He'd been nervous in the feel good, bottom of his belly kind of way and he'd caught himself smiling even though there was nothing to smile about. Now the truth of what is about to happen weighs him, though, and it puts a pressure on him that he hasn't felt before when it comes to Kurt.

He wants to impress him. He wants to be interesting. He wants Kurt to like him.

All of that is new to him, and that in itself surprises Blaine. But then, his admiration for Kurt has never had anything to do with himself. He hasn't actually imagined them sitting down to talk, for real. The idea has always been quickly skidded past in his mind, because it brought out the same emotion that dries out his mouth now. It's always been about red hot attraction, the understanding that Kurt won't ever feel the same way, and a silent admiration for Kurt's art and sass. It's the same way he admires musical artists and actors. It's far away. Safe.

Kurt is going to be looking right into his eyes and have an actual conversation with him, and Blaine won't have an excuse to be silent. Their previous interactions have all been more or less spontaneous . This is planned, so instead of being pleasantly surprised Blaine will feel wound up with anticipation and nerves and  _I'm bound to fuck up._

Blaine is insanely aware of every step he takes that day. Things he usually does without a second thought registers with him as if he hasn't noticed that he does them before. Like his compulsive way of going to the bathroom before he leaves the house, and one more time before first period. Even if he doesn't have to. He notices his own walk. He doesn't wrap his arms around himself to stay invisible, but his fingers fidget where his hands hang by his sides. Does he always do that?

His new self awareness is only a distraction, though. A replacement for the thoughts he usually spends on Kurt. The thoughts he has of fucking him, of being licked by him, being kissed by him, going down on him. Oh, God. Oh,  _Kurt._

Blaine is a mess of contradicting emotions. He's trying so hard to be unfazed, to see Kurt as an actual person who won't judge him and who he shouldn't worry about whether or not he's attractive to him. He has never focused less on his school work than today.

It isn't until he passes Kurt in the hallway that his thoughts stop. He's walking normally, if a little frantic due to his emotional state, but the moment he looks up and realizes that Kurt is walking with Rachel and Tina his way he half-stops, and stares straight at him. Kurt proudly trots on, though, where he's between the girls who are talking over him. His eyes lock with Blaine's when him and the girls stop outside of a classroom, and just as Blaine is about to pass, heart almost beating out of his fucking chest, Kurt smirks a dirty grin at him and  _winks._

And Blaine stops. And he smiles dumbly. And he's not blinking, as he says:

“Hi!”

It's too loud. It's awkward. It catches Kurt completely off guard. Rachel and Tina startle and stare at him.

Time stops.

Then Kurt snorts a laugh. His eyes crinkle, he's smiling so hard and uninhibited, and responds an amused: “Hi.”

Blaine's sure he's blushing a painfully unattractive shade of red, but all he can do is giggle dumbly because Kurt's still smiling as though Blaine is the most precious thing he's ever laid his eyes on.

Tina and Rachel share a look, but then they kind of smile as well.

“Did you hear we're doing Gaga again this week?” Tina suddenly pipes up. “I'm already sewing my costume.”

Blaine blinks, forces his eyes from Kurt to look at Tina.

“Oh,” he says, as his natural shyness catches up with him. “I like her. That'll be fun.”

“You like Gaga?” Kurt asks, obviously interested.

And as Blaine looks right at him, there's something else in Kurt's eyes.

“Yes,” Blaine says. “She's an icon.”

Kurt's mouth opens a little bit, and Blaine has to look away. The tension  _burns._

“You boys, don't dare steal my group solo,” Rachel says, completely oblivious to the unspoken. “Gaga is mine.”

Kurt throws her a sharp glance.

“Um, well, I gotta get to class,” Blaine says and clears his throat. “See you later, Kurt.”

“Yeah,” Kurt says breathlessly.

They look at each other again. Blaine feels like he's going to  _die_. And then he somehow makes his way down the hall and locks himself inside a stall in the boys' bathroom.

He sits down on the toilet seat and just stares at the closed door in front of him. It's gray. It's cluttered with phone numbers and profanities. Blaine's hands are clenched into fists and he breathes four squares.

He thought it had been bad when Kurt didn't show any interest at all, but this is so much  _worse._ Blaine is trembling and has to close his eyes, has to try to separate himself from reality for a little bit and not think of Kurt's magnetic eyes for one fucking second. Then Blaine makes the decision and unzips his pants, shoves his hand down his briefs, and slides a finger between his slippery folds. He needs to rub one out now or else he won't make it through the day.

He circles his clit until it hardens, but it only makes the tension in his shoulders worse. He closes his eyes, spreads his legs, and enjoys the way his hand is pushed harder onto himself from his tightening pants. It's weird to masturbate in this position at first, but then Blaine flicks his fingers just so and his other hand automatically flies up to his mouth and he bites into it to keep from making any noise. He goes faster, faster, and then Kurt's parting lips are in his head, the insinuation of  _more_ vibrates through his body, the heart and the smiling emoticon that ended Kurt's Facebook message last night before echoes in Blaine's mind.

Blaine bends forward, keeps at his pussy, and squeezes his eyes shut. Fuck, he's close. The sensation rips through him, his throat begs to open up and let out the moans that are starting deep in his chest. But when he holds it in it just grows larger inside of him and he feels that telltale tightening in his pussy that he gets when he's just about to come. He rubs faster, doesn't press quite as hard, and then he's there. He breathes hard and his body tightens up and releases deliciously.

Blaine breathes heavily as he comes down, blinking groggily.

His lungs open up, lightness enters his chest, and he's content. He gets out of the stall, washes his hands, and goes to attend his next few classes. There is no Glee practice today, so when Blaine leaves his last class, Kurt is standing by his locker.

Jessica and Patrice had noticed that something was up with him as soon as Blaine walked into Spanish. He'd blamed it on the fact that he'd found out Glee club was doing Gaga, and they bought it. Blaine has blasted Marry The Night on his phone in their presence enough times for them to believe that he'd be that worked up over a chance to perform show choir versions of her songs.

But that was far from the real reason he was acting strange. The real reason is standing there, right beside his locker, and he's smirking and shuffling his feet as Blaine catches his eye when he turns the corner down the hall where his locker is. Blaine gets fidgety realizing the fact that Kurt had remembered where Blaine's locker is. As if he doesn't see him go there for his books every day. As if Kurt hasn't memorized the locations of every Glee club member's lockers. As if it  _means_ something.

“Hi,” Blaine says.

As he opens his locker, he doesn't dare throw Kurt a single glance as he puts his Spanish textbook inside and stuffs his history homework and sheet music in his messenger bag.

“That's right, you play piano,” Kurt comments as his eyes fleet over the sheet music _._

“Yeah,” Blaine says and closes his locker. He looks at Kurt this time, and they walk towards the end of the hall together. “This song's a killer to learn, though. Hard to find time to practice nowadays.”

“I get it,” Kurt says. “I gave up piano lessons sophomore year when Glee took up half my life. It's cool that you kept it up, though.”

“Yeah, well, I guess I don't practice Glee as much as you do,” Blaine confesses. “What with your auditioning for solos and stuff.”

“In vain, it seems,” Kurt sighs.

Blaine looks at him as they reach Kurt's car, and he sits down on the passenger seat when Kurt sits down on the driver's seat.

“Hey, no,” Blaine disagrees. “You're getting a solo, even if it means I'll have to cause a scene during Glee every day until it happens.”

Kurt turns to look at him before he starts the engine. Blaine's words distracted him from the familiar routine. And now he looks... small. Vulnerable. His brows furrow with self doubt and Blaine doesn't have a clue what possesses him to do it, but he murmurs lowly;

“We'll get you that solo.”

He's not fucking around. Anyone could tell by the tone of his voice.

Kurt's lips part ever so slightly, and he blushes the same way he did when Blaine stood up for him during Glee practice. Kurt starts the engine and backs out, with quick 'yeah' that suggests they drop the subject for now.

Maybe Blaine had misjudged him when he immediately assumed that Kurt was embarrassed. Maybe he blushes for an entirely different reason.

Blaine has to stop thinking like that if he's going to get through today without completely losing it.

Kurt gets into talking about the upcoming Gaga numbers they'll have in Glee, and it goes on all the way to the Lima Bean. Kurt is most interested in costumes and performance, while Blaine comes up with song suggestions and different ways to arrange the songs to keep it from getting too cheesy. They find a way to combine their ideas, and by the time Kurt pulls up at the parking lot they're half way through directing an entire number of “Gypsy”.

“You have really great ideas,” Kurt says when they make their way to the short line to place their order.

“I don't know,” Blaine says, scratches the back of his neck and blushes. “It's fun and all, but...”

“And it shows!” Kurt insists. “That you think that, I mean. Mr Schue and Rachel always take the command and they're just repeating the same pattern over and over again. It would be pretty great if we got something different to do.”

“I agree,” Blaine says.

“It'd be great if you spoke up more during class,” Kurt says, and his voice is softer now. It pierces through Blaine. “People don't know what they're missing when you keep your ideas to yourself.”

Blaine inhales slowly. The compliments rub him so right. He wants to preen and twirl with pride. But the other part of him restrains those urges, and all he does is smile and look around unsurely, though with a proud little smile on his face that he can't quite contain.

 _Kurt_ likes the way he thinks.  _Kurt_ thinks that he's interesting.  _Kurt_ , talented, ground-breaking Kurt, wants Blaine to speak up more.

They place their orders and sit down on an arm chair each on the opposite sides of a small, round table. Kurt takes off his white military-style jacket and puts his bag down beside the chair. He's making himself comfortable. Blaine follows his lead, and by the time they're both comfortable and looking at one another again they realize that some time has passed without either of them speaking.

Blaine grins, and Kurt smiles back. It's weird to feel so comfortable. He has to keep reminding himself that this is Kurt, the object of his affection, the center stage man of his most secret fantasies.

It isn't difficult to see that when they're like this when Blaine focuses. Even under the low lighting of this corner of the coffee shop and the small candle burning on the table between them, Kurt's sharp features stand out and Blaine's gaze is drawn to them. The difference doesn't lie in the way Kurt looks, or his naturally magnetic energy. The difference is in how Kurt rants, makes bad jokes, and isn't exactly politically correct when he talks about the reasons why he thinks that Mr Schue always favors Rachel.

Kurt's a  _guy._  He's extraordinary, but he's just a guy. A teenager. To his own surprise, Blaine doesn't find it in the least bit off putting.

As they keep talking about “Gypsy” and who would sing which lines, Blaine can already imagine this becoming a habit. Them exchanging ideas like this, with way too sugary hot beverages that make their moods shoot up and their conversation becomes fast and enjoyable in a way that Blaine rarely is with people.

“I know Rachel would throw a fit if she didn't get a solo in this one,” Kurt says. “But I really think that Mercedes and Tina would give the song authenticity. I mean, Rachel could as well, but she gets to show off all the time anyway.”

“Totally,” Blaine grins, takes another sip of his vanilla latte.

“And I don't want the song to be like Mr Schue always arranges it,” Kurt says. “Like, boring hetero normative duet that might feature a rap from Artie and a high note from Mercedes. We should push the envelope a little more than that. Show off the voices of the rest of the club. Like mine. And yours.”

Blaine puts down his cup and exhales. He had a feeling Kurt would suggest that once they agreed on maybe starting the song with Blaine on the piano.

“I don't know,” Blaine says. “Maybe.”

Kurt tilts his head. Blaine doesn't quite meet his gaze.

“I mean you don't have to,” he says. “I always think everyone wants to be the center of attention. I mean, have you seen me?”

Blaine giggles, but his eyes are still shyly downcast. He doesn't want to react like a little kid. Doesn't want Kurt thinking he needs to be coddled.

“I have,” he says instead, and without thinking about it his eyes hungrily take in the beautiful features of Kurt's face.

Those two innocent words rushes the tension towards the surface again, creating that white hot burning electricity between them. Kurt's breath catches slightly and he blushes.

Blaine wants to say something to clear the air, but...

But even though Kurt looks surprised at Blaine's unapologetic ogling, completely caught off guard and rightly so, he also seems to be satisfied. His back straightens a little bit, and he holds Blaine's eye as soon as Blaine dares look up. Blaine's pussy throbs and gets slick between his thighs.

“Blaine,” Kurt says.

God, the sound of that. High and airy, practically breathed out between Kurt's pink lips.

“I--,” Blaine stalls.

He has never felt quite so vulnerable. Two words and a sincere gaze left him out on a line, like Kurt can read every little secret off the way Blaine squirms in his seat.

“It's alright,” Kurt interrupts. “I'm just not used to... I mean, this  _is_ a date.”

Blaine stares. Kurt's comforting smile turns frantic.

“Is-- isn't it?” he rushes out, clearly embarrassed, “I didn't mean to assume anything, but-”

“Wait a minute” Blaine interrupts. Kurt's nerves actually calm him down in counterpoint. “I just... I didn't tknow you thought of me like that. I didn't think you did.”

Kurt tilts his head a little bit. His eyes radiate warmth and affection. Blaine's heart beats with defiance. His immediate reaction is disbelief. His immediate assumption is that this is a joke. There is no way Kurt has ever thought of him that way, is there? Blaine rarely acts on his immediate reactions, though, and this is no exception. He takes a breath, and then steels himself. Feigns confidence.

“This is a date,” he says with conviction.

Their eyes meet, and Blaine's heart thunders inside his chest. A moment of silence passes before they grab their drinks for a sip at the same time and smile secretly to themselves. Blaine is at a loss at how their casual coffee shop get together turned into this, but he's thrilled that it did.


End file.
